What’s Dangerous, at least to the career of Michael Jackson, was his decision to leave producer Quincy Jones after three hit albums. This one isn’t trimmed as tight as it probably would’ve been if he were still around; it’s 77 minutes long; but the way that time is utilized made it a risk worth taking. The set immerses itself in New Jack Swing; gritty dance grooves produced by Teddy Riley; before dwindling the tempo down for an eclectic assortment of ballads.
Gone Too Soon matches poetic similes with soaring orchestration. It’s a beautiful lament. Then the music fades to the thumping pulse of a nightclub. In it there’s a girl. She’s vindictive, conniving, sexy and divine. Could it be the return of Dirty Diana? Perhaps, but this album is better than Bad. Every one of its fourteen songs is either good or great. It’s Jackson’s best album after Thriller; the more ageless soundscape of which does wonders for its classicity.
Dangerous dates itself with overactive sound effects and unwelcomed guest rappers; some songs go on too long; but Michael Jackson’s vocal style has never sounded so magnificent. Unlike most singers, he doesn’t just sing. He takes on a riled staccato that almost sounds like melodic rap. He snaps, grunts, hiccups, hees and hoos like never before. Even when the ad-libs don’t match the words, as on the peak of Will You Be There, you’re too enthralled to give a damn.
my rating : 4 of 5
1991
